


i love your orange laughter. i am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

by queerravenclaw



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anniversary, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:57:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerravenclaw/pseuds/queerravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey has been staring at this fucking card for what seems like forever but try as he might he just cannot find the right words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i love your orange laughter. i am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

Mickey wasn't bothered by his distinct lack of academic achievement. He was southside. Fucked for life. He had accepted that a long, long time ago. Every now and then, though, he wanted to kick his past self for not paying just a little more attention in class. Maybe, if he had actually bothered to write his own English papers on occasion, he wouldn't be sat here now, in the dim light of the Gallagher kitchen at 1am, staring down at a blank card, trying desperately to find the words. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Ian what was going through his mind. His thoughts and feelings and everything that he loved about the asshole. How he couldn't imagine life without him any more. Honestly. He'd gladly lay bare his soul if he thought it would make Ian smile. It was just that he didn't know...how. How to find exactly the right words to explain that Ian was everything in the world to him. To tell him that he loved him more than he ever thought possible. That he was the best thing that had ever happened to Mickey's shitty, dismal excuse for a life. That being without him for those months (the ones they never really talked about) made him feel like his chest was going to crack open, it ached so bad. That being with him felt like coming home. That just being near Ian made him braver and stronger and happier and better. And so much more. 

The longer he sat there, staring down the blank card, the more certain he became that it was mocking him. Fuck. He needed to get some sleep. He stashed the card under a dust-covered pile of books, which had probably been sitting on the table in the laundry nook for years, before heading upstairs.

He'd work on the card in the morning, he still had a couple more days until their anniversary anyway. He had time. Perhaps inspiration would strike tomorrow.

*****

Another day came and went. Inspiration stubbornly refused to strike. Mickey was starting to feel like he was going to have to resort to desperate measures. 

The following day he did just that. 

He was at The Alibi providing security for the girls since some guys had been getting a bit too rough recently. Generally this entailed nothing more challenging than hanging about in the bar whilst looking vaguely menacing. Occasionally he'd have to go to the trouble of cracking his knuckles or some shit. But that was as demanding as it ever got. 

It was in a quiet moment when the bar was mostly empty (and after he'd had more than a couple of beers) that Mickey finally decided to bite the bullet.   
"Kev?" Mickey attempted nonchalance. He didn't exactly relish the thought of talking to Kev about his love life.   
"Yeah?" Kev said, continuing to clean the dirty glass in his hand with an even dirtier rag.  
Mickey took a deep breath. At first he had considered asking Mandy for advice but he quickly remembered that she was his sister. Mickey loved her and she loved him but he knew well enough that she would never pass up the opportunity to take the piss. It was her sisterly duty after all. Kev, however, had never made fun of Mickey, despite having more than enough opportunities recently.   
"You and Vee? You been together a long time?"   
"Six years and still going strong."  
"So," Mickey unconsciously swiped his thumb across his lower lip. "you've had a bunch of like anniversaries and shit?"   
Kev's head rose. His eye's no longer focused on the glass in his hand, but on Mickey. Mickey was determinedly looking at anything but Kev. Eyes darting all over the bar. It was taking everything he had not to physically start squirming under Kev's gaze.   
"Yeeeeah." Kev drew the word out "Why? You and Ian got a big date coming up? You planning something romantic? Champagne and roses? Showering him with gifts?" Kev's voice was laced with amusement.  
Mickey had known this was a stupid idea. "Hey fuck you man, forget I asked." He said.  
"Mickey, chill out. Okay. I'm kidding." He held his arms up in mock surrender. "What d'you wanna know?"  
Mickey sat back down. Focusing intently on the last dregs of beer in the glass in front of him. "It's the first year since..."  
"Your big coming out?" Kev supplied.  
"Right." Mickey ploughed on "I wanted to, I dunno, do something...i can now. I couldn't before but...it's just...like those cards man...the fuck are you supposed to write? Everything just sounds fucking ridiculous."  
"Yeah, I've never been great at that sort of thing."  
"You don't get Vee cards?"  
"No, I get her cards. I just got Debbie to write most of them."  
"Well what did Debbie write?"  
"I dunno, romantic shit."  
Mickey let out a long-suffering sigh. "Helpful." He dead-panned before gulping down the last mouthfuls of warm beer in his glass and heading upstairs to check in with the girls. 

*****

When Mickey got back to the Gallagher's late in the afternoon the house was empty. He headed to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Hello?" He yelled up the stairs. The house was never this quiet unless everybody was out but he wanted to be sure. No reply came. Satisfied he wouldn't be interrupted he wandered over to the laundry nook. He quickly found his hiding spot from a couple of nights ago and, with his free hand, he pulled the blank anniversary card out from where he'd stashed it. Well, he attempted to. He yanked the card free but also managed to send the pile of books tumbling to the floor.   
"Oh for fucks..." He groaned. He deposited his beer and card on top of the dryer and set about tidying up. 

The Great Gatsby, Animal Farm, The Hunger Games all put back on the rickety old table next to the dirty laundry, piled high and waiting to be washed. He finished stacking the last few books and was about to turn and fetch his beer when he stopped. The tattered paperback which lay on top of the untidy pile caught his eye. 

Selected Love Poems

Cautiously he picked the book back up. The cover might once have been red but was now faded to a pale gray-ish pink. He flipped it open. The first page was emblazoned with the words "Fiona Gallagher" written in large looping handwriting and complete with a heart dotting the i. He chuckled to himself before going on. He dismissed the first few poems. Too many "thou's" and "thee's" to make sense of. He kept flicking through the book not sure exactly what he was looking for. Then a handful of words jumped out at him.

It was like the whole world stopped. There they were. The words. Simple, wonderful words staring up at him out of a yellowing page of a tatty third? fourth? hand book. And they were perfect.

******

Ian woke alone. Lip's old room - now Mickey and Ian's - was unusually empty. Normally the sound of Mickey, still asleep, accompanied the repetitive thrum of rain beating down against the window and the mummers of the Gallagher's having breakfast in the kitchen below. But not this morning. Bleary eyed, Ian groped around on the floor and pulled on the first pair of boxers he found. A bit shorter than normal. Must be Mickey's he thought to himself before pulling on a pair of sweatpants over them.

He was about to go downstairs and see if he could nab some breakfast before it all got eaten when he noticed the card. It was lying there on the pillow next to him. IAN was written on the envelope. Ian frowned. Still half asleep he couldn't work out what it was doing there. Eventually he just shrugged and tore the envelope open. 

A smile began pulling at the comers of his mouth when he caught a glimpse of the card's rich red design. He pulled the card out revealing a sailor jerry style heart being pierced by a dagger. The word "FOREVER" was printed on the banner which scrolled across the heart. 

Ian flipped the card open. Inside, written in Mickey's familiar scrawl and slightly off-centre, was a poem. Or perhaps just part of a poem, Ian mused. 

"Of everything I have seen,   
it's you I want to go on seeing;   
of everything I've touched,   
it's your flesh I want to go on touching.   
I love your orange laughter.   
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

What am I to do, love, loved one?   
I don't know how others love,   
or how people loved in the past.   
I live, watching you, loving you.   
Being in love is my nature."

******

Mickey entered the bedroom, mug of coffee in one hand and a plate piled with pancakes in the other. He stood in the doorway and watched his boyfriend staring intently at his card. That huge shit-eating grin taking up half his face. The same grin Mickey had fallen in love with the first time he saw it through prison plexiglass. The tension he had been carrying since he first placed the card down beside Ian immediately evaporated. The voice which had been whispering "So stupid. He's gonna think it's so stupid and cheesy. You fucking idiot." over and over whilst he was grabbing their breakfast and coffee ceased. 

"Hey tough guy." Mickey said, drawing Ian's attention away from the card. "Breakfast?" He walked into the room and waved the pancakes and coffee in front of Ian's face. Ian looked up. His grin somehow defied the laws of physics and managed to grow even bigger. He kneeled on the bed so he was face to face with Mickey. Silently, he took the plate and mug out of Mickey's hands and placed them, somewhat haphazardly, on the bedside table.  
"Thank you for the card" He beamed as he turned back to face Mickey. He reached his hands around Mickey's waist and pulled him flush against his chest. Mickey mirrored Ian, wrapping his arms around his waist, before meeting his gaze. They stayed that way for a long moment. Faces inches apart. Breathing in each others air.   
"Really. Thank you." Ian said again before slowly leaning forward and catching Mickey's lips in a long, deep kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> the title and poem mickey quotes are from Love by Pablo Neruda
> 
> so i kind of feel like this was maybe a bit too schmaltzy but mickey did call ian sleepyface so idk maybe not  
> also i think i might end up writing a second part to this so stay tuned for that or something


End file.
